Growing Pains
by lissianne
Summary: From the prompt, Food Fight/Let it Go Already, Andy and Sharon experience "growing pains" in the early stage of their domestic relationship.


I own nothing of Major Crimes. I only borrow the characters.

From the BamDAMMMster prompt Food Fight/Let It Go Already

Growing Pains

Today I am going to be a bitch. I can feel it coming. I am living up to my reputation. I admit it. In my defense, my day didn't exactly start swimmingly. Yes, pun intended. I got up at my usual three a.m. to go to the bathroom and promptly fell into the toilet.

Evidently, Andy hasn't learned to put the toilet seat down. It's been an adjustment sharing such close quarters with a man. I'm still working on it. God knows I love him, but seriously, why is it so hard to put a toilet seat down. Mental note taken to always turn the bathroom light on in the middle of the night.

Needless to say, I didn't fall back to sleep right away. I was cold, my assets and mood both were considerably dampened. In fact it was probably close to time to get up before I lost myself in deep slumber. Andy, on the other hand, can fall asleep on a dime. It doesn't matter what is happening around him, once his head hits the pillow he's out. I more than envy his sleeping habits. I fumbled for the blaring alarm without opening my eyes. Please, don't make me open my eyes, get out of bed, or face the world.

My bedroom curtains opened to an ungodly bright morning. Standing at the foot of the bed with a broad smile, Andy happily chirped, "good morning sunshine."

I looked at him with one eye opened, then pulled the covers back over my head.

"Sharon, honey, time to get up. Rise and shine sleepy head," he continued.

I grudgingly sat on the edge of the bed and tucked my unruly hair behind my ears, while in my mind, I smacked his cheerful face with my pillow. Repeatedly.

He made his way to the bathroom while I found my slippers under his pile of laundry next to the laundry hamper. Next to the hamper, not in the hamper, what is that about? I suppose that is another man-ism. It's not like I've had to deal with one on a full time basis in a very long time. Well, if I'm honest, practically not at all. Jack wasn't around enough to leave a trail of dirty socks and underwear.

I take a deep breath and look at the offending laundry. It's a testament to Andy's presence. He's here. He's truly here. Though I'm not in the mood to admit it today, I am, with my whole heart, thankful.

"Hon," he called from the bathroom. "Perhaps, you could find another place to hang your wet laundry. It's in my way hanging on the shower door."

I didn't do any laundry. Then it hit me. It was my nightgown from my unfortunate incident this morning. I can't say for sure, but I think my eyes glazed over.

"Perhaps, if you would put down the toilet seat, I wouldn't have wet laundry inconveniencing you."

I waited for a retort. When none came, I went to the bathroom to finish the conversation. As I stood in the doorway, I could see Andy's shoulders convulsing. It must have strained him terribly not to out and out roll on the floor in hysteria.

He evidently sensed me standing behind him. He slowly turned around, "I'm sorry, really I am."

It was almost believable, except he burst into laughter before he finished the sentence. I turned on my heels and headed for the kitchen. Rusty was already at the table having a bowl of fruit loops. I never realized just how loudly that kid can eat cereal. Man in training, that's what I have here. I'm pretty sure I rolled my eyes.

Andy came into the kitchen, wearing a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. He hadn't taken the time to shower. I suspect he was about to attempt damage control.

It was obvious my mood wasn't exactly stellar. Andy gave me an almost pleading look with his apology. Rusty, sensing an impending explosion, excused himself.

I almost laughed. He reminded me of the scenes in western movies when the bar clears out before the gunfight.

I sat down at the dining room table with my bowl of oat meal. Andy poured a cup of tea and sat across from me.

"I'm sorry, I'm not used to being here or being with you." He took a sip of tea and shrugged, "actually, I'm not used to your ice cold feet in the middle of the night or all of your stuff scattered about the bathroom."

I slowly licked my spoon, "hmm, I supposed we both have a lot of adjustments to make."

"It's not that big of a deal," he said, " leaving the toilet seat up, laundry all over, it could be worse." He shrugged and flashed that grin of his.

I gave him a glare as I lifted my spoon of oatmeal.

"For Pete's sake, Sharon, you'll feel much better if you just let it go already."

I raised my spoon and pulled it back with my index finger. As I let it go, I heard the splat as it hit Andy's smug face. I have to say, he was right. I felt much better.


End file.
